One Direction Preferences

#84: He Does Something That Annoys You

Niall:

"Ugh," you groan as your Twitter dashboard fills up with retweets of an embarrassing picture Niall had posted of you - this time one of you pulling a silly face at the camera while slightly intoxicated at the New Year's Eve party you'd been to, holding your pint glass. You wouldn't usually be bothered - in fact the photo itself was quite hilarious even to you - but it was becoming a regular occurrence for your boyfriend to post all these unflattering pictures and you receiving a ridiculous backlash from them. You look up from your laptop to Niall who was wandering around the kitchen gathering some snacks for the two of you to eat while you watched a film, "Will you give up posting all these photos of me," you sigh. He turns round to look at you, eyebrows raised, "What, why? They're funny! And you're my girlfriend, I want to show you off a little,". You scoff, rolling your eyes, "Well I'd appreciate it if they were nicer pictures from now on - I'm sick of my mentions being filled up with tweets accusing me of being an alcoholic, gold digger and pointing out the fact I'm not attractive enough to be your girlfriend,". "What? Don't be daft!" he looks at you, his eyes showing clearly his shock, "Really?". You push the laptop away from you, leaving it instead on the coffee table and gesture towards it, "Take your pick, have a read,". He jogs over and kneels down to read the laptop screen, his frown becoming more and more prominent before he takes a seat next to you, throwing his arm around your shoulders, "Well we know that's all a load of crap, but I'll stop with the pictures if it bothers you that much,". "Thanks babe," you smile leaning up to kiss his lips.

Harry:

"Biggest load of crap ever," Harry shouts as you walk into the room. You glance at the TV screen and sigh when you realise he is rerunning the boys performance of 'Kiss You' on the X-Factor again. You continue into the kitchen shaking your head. Harry had not stopped going on about this one performance for weeks, mad at himself that he hadn't been able to reach this one note, ignoring the fact he'd been really ill for the entire week before that live performance. You'd sympathised and reassured to begin with, knowing how hard your boyfriend is on himself especially with things like this, but it had literally been weeks now and his continued self-pitying behaviour was starting to get annoying. As you wander back into the living room with a cup of tea, Harry is leant over his iPad mumbling, "Yes Perez Hilton, I know I sing like a bag of shit I don't need you to tell me that,". "Will you just give up with that?" you groan as you collapse onto the couch, ignoring the look of shock he throws you at the comment, "Can't you just move on from this self-pity?". "It's not self-pity!" he insists, frowning now. "Then what is it Harry?" you look at him wide-eyed, but not waiting for an answer, "Because it's been weeks Harry, weeks. Yes, you missed one note, just one note out of the whole song which is incredible considering how ill you'd been. And the rest of it you sung brilliantly, as always, and it's not just me either, all the fans thought it too,". He doesn't say anything, instead just looks down at his lap and you sigh, worried your rant may have gone too far. You move so you're sat behind his place on the floor and put your hands on his shoulders, "You're not shit, you've never been shit and nor will you ever be shit. You're incredible at singing, at everything to me, and I just wish you'd see it," you whisper before leaning down to kiss the side of his cheek. He turns to look at you with a small smile as he mumbles, "Thanks,".

Liam:

"What time is it?" Liam groans as he steps through the living room doorway in just his boxers, his voice gravelly and rough as he rubs at his eyes. "Only early, just turned nine," you mumble back, not taking your eyes away from the book you were reading. He takes in your position laying on the couch, cushions piled behind your head and the blanket from the spare room thrown over you, "Did you sleep in here last night?". "Mmhm," you nod, still not looking over at him. He takes a seat at the bottom of the couch where your feet are, and you move your legs so he can sit more comfortably. "How come?" he asks quietly. "You know I don't like it when you're that drunk," you answer simply, still looking at the pages in front of you despite your eyes not being in focus. Liam reaches over and pushes the book down so he can look into your eyes, his eyes apologetic as he speaks genuinely, "I'm sorry,". You sigh, letting go of your book, not caring when it falls to the floor, instead reaching for his outstretched hand, "It's OK. It doesn't usually bother me it's just... It's been happening a lot lately and..." you trail off, not sure how to say what's on your mind. Liam can see this as he squeezes your hand reassuringly and urges you to continue with a gentle, "Go on,". "It's just, are we having... you know, problems? Like, is that why you're going out and getting drunk all the time?" you avoid his gaze, instead fiddling with a loose thread dangling from the blanket. "What? No no!" his tone sounds so shocked that you look up to find him staring at you wide-eyed, "What? No, never! I can't... I'm so sorry if that's how it made you feel, you should have said something, I love you so much,". You chuckle slightly as he rambles at a hundred miles per hour his arms reaching for you to wrap himself protectively around you, and you sigh happily into the embrace, relieved. "Why then?" you ask curiously, "It's not like you never went out before, it's just... it's been happening a lot recently,". You notice his cheeks blush, "Well I'm always called the boring one so I just thought... I don't know,". You roll your eyes, lifting your head to peck his lips quickly, "Well I think you're as far from boring as you could be,".

Louis:

You'd been working extra hard on your assignments to try and get them finished before Louis and the boys got back home from their tour, in the hope of being able to spend all your time with your boyfriend. Things hadn't worked out that way though. You still had half an essay to finish with the deadline imminent and you were determined to get it finished before you allowed yourself to be distracted by days out and lazy days in. You'd explained this to Louis when he'd got home, but he seems to have short term memory problems. "Louis," you groan as you feel him wrap his arms around your waist from behind, "Go away will you? I need to get this essay done,". "You work too hard babe, take a break," he tries to persuade, resting his head on your shoulder, "Besides, we haven't spent any proper time together in weeks while I've been away - I've missed you. I thought we could go out for dinner tonight...". You turn on the breakfast bar stool to face him, looking at him seriously, "Which is a great idea, so long as someone leaves me alone so I can get this essay finished," you look at him sternly, pressing your hand to his chest and pushing him away forcefully, but gently. "Fine," he sighs dramatically, holding his arms up in surrender before he flops over the back of the couch and reaches for the remote. You roll your eyes at him before turning back to your half written essay, reaching for one of the numerous books around you for a reference point. The volume from the TV increases behind you, and let your head drop against the counter side, especially so when Louis' cheering and banter is loud enough to be heard clearly over the football commentary. This was useless. You gather your things together and put them in a bag, and it's not until you're almost at the door that Louis notices you've moved. "What?" he looks at you upset and confused, "Where are you going?". "To the library," you explain simply, "I can't get this finished here and the deadlines tomorrow,". The corners of his mouth turn down, "I'm sorry babe,". "It's alright love," you roll your eyes, forgiving him in an instant, "I'll get this finished and then I'll see you later for dinner yeah?".

Zayn:

It was the look that made you feel paranoid. You'd finish speaking, and it could be about anything, and you'd glance over at your boyfriend and there'd be this look on his face, as if he was watching you for a few seconds longer than what was necessary or normal. And it's that that left you feeling embarrassed, as if you'd said something completely stupid and he was just staring at you in disbelief. "Will you stop that?" you whine one day after a particularly lengthy stare. A smirk spreads across his features and he raises his eyebrows, "Stop what?". "Looking at me like that," you gesture wildly at his face, making him chuckle slightly, "You're making me feel like I'm an idiot,". He frowns then, "I don't think you're an idiot,". You scoff, rolling your eyes, "Beats me,". You're surprised when his arms reach out to twist you around so you're facing him, his arms resting on your hips, "What am I doing?". "Staring at me with this weird look," you sigh, looking up at him embarrassedly, "As if I've just said something stupid - which I probably have, but you never used to do it..." you trail off as he begins to laugh, "What?". He shakes his head, "Quite the opposite of what I was doing - you're going to think I'm the stupid one now,". Your eyes narrow, "Why?". "Because, as stupidly cheesy as it sounds," he looks up at the ceiling, shaking his head in disbelief that he was confessing this, "I miss you constantly while I'm away, and I always have but I realized it even more after this last tour. So when I'm with you, I don't want to miss anything - I can't get enough of you,". A grin spreads across your face as you reach up on your tip toes to kiss him, mumbling "Stupidly cheesy," against his lips.

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